


The One Where Everything Goes Wrong

by dearmrsawyer



Series: propose propose propose [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, also potential for, mild medical emergency with no repercussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrsawyer/pseuds/dearmrsawyer
Summary: Freddie derails Niall's attempt to ask a very important question. An alternate ending to The One Where Everything Goes Right.





	The One Where Everything Goes Wrong

Niall stretches out his bum leg across the rug, feeling it click beneath the skin. It’d been a light afternoon, jogging around with Louis and Freddie at the park, and he can feel his knee is grateful that he didn’t push it.

The little lad’s quick now, but doesn’t have much endurance. It gives Niall plenty of time to rest his old bones.

Freddie seems to be done with running for now, sitting steady on the rug with a toy banjo across his lap. There are two strings wired in so they play the same two notes, no tuning options. He tugs at them hard, absent-mindedly, cramming his chubby fingers between the strings and fret while his eyes focus on the TV.

Louis’ got a game going. They already know the final score – Twitter spilt the beans first thing this morning. But it doesn’t stop Louis giving himself a nice night in with a match.

He’s currently in the kitchen fixing Freddie a bottle, grumbling audibly as he tries to get the temperature right. Sometimes he’s back in a flash, boasting about all the bottles he’s made over the years. Other nights he’s gone a little longer, and comes back whinging that the microwave needs seeing to.

Niall can tell it’s gonna be one of those nights, and while he feels for the growing impatience in Freddie’s eyes, his own heart is a mixture of relief and anticipation.

His fingers slide over the small ring of metal in his pocket, warm from his frequent fiddling.

“Freddie,” he says softly. “Hey, Freds, you up for something?”

Freddie’s head swings around slowly, eyes pulling back from the doorway his dad disappeared through until they land on Niall. The banjo lays abandoned at his side and he leans forward, pulling his knees back to find his feet.

Niall reaches over and grabs at Freddie’s arms, helping him up and guiding him closer. Freddie hums behind his dummy, watching his hands stretch towards Niall.

“That’s it, bud. You wanna help me do something for your Pa? Got a little surprise for him.”

Freddie’s watching him with close concentration like he’s trying to puzzle out what Niall’s saying. He keeps a hand on Freddie’s waist and slips the other into his pocket, pulling out the ring.

“It’s for your Dad,” Niall explains, voice low and cheeks heating up. The fact that Freddie doesn’t understand most of what he’s saying doesn’t make this any easier. His heart’s still pounding up a storm.

“Been trying to think of a way to give it to him for a while. Thought maybe you could help, yeah? Bet he’d love that. Might better my chances,” he chuckles nervously.

Freddie’s eyes find the ring and he instantly reaches for it. He fumbles with loose fingers before finally getting a good grip in his palm. His complete focus goes to the way it glints in the low light and Niall has to hold his waist to make sure he stays standing.

“What d’you say? Wanna help me give this to your Dad?”

Freddie instantly looks around at ‘Dad,’ as if Niall’s summoned him. He takes an aimless step and Niall helps turn him towards the kitchen door.

“That’s it,” he says, hands going clammy against Freddie’s sleeves. “Okay, we’re doing this. Okay.”

When Freddie looks like his feet have found momentum, Niall lets go to stand himself up. He follows the hard slap of baby feet across the floor but looks up when it stops.

Freddie is halfway to the door, eyes down, hands in front of him.

“Okay, bud?” Niall leans down. Freddie turns at the sound of his voice, and the first thing Niall notices is that Freddie’s dummy is at his feet. The second is that his hands are empty.

“What—” Niall doubles at the waist, squinting at the floor. Louis’ hardwood is polished and the light streaks in from the kitchen.

“Clumsy fingers, huh?” Niall jokes, but he doesn’t see the ring anywhere. He crouches and leans his cheek against the floor to check under the couch, but Louis’ floors are strangely clean. He must’ve had someone come through ahead of Freddie being here.

“Uh, where’d you—”

Niall puts his slow realisation time down to the fact that he’s not a father and is not used to factoring in certain scenarios. One of those scenarios evidently being that the other person in the room may swallow whatever you hand them.

“Oh, god.” He scrambles to Freddie, knees screaming against the floor, and both hands instantly pry at his lips. Freddie whines, trying to push Niall’s hands away, but Niall manages to leverage a finger inside. He’s practically got his nose to Freddie’s chin trying to see past Freddie’s brand new teeth.

“No, no no no no,” he groans, finger sweeping from one side of Freddie’s mouth to the other, even as he squeals, upset. “No, Freddie, no.”

His fingers go slack and Freddie finally pushes them away, eyes scrunched up in that way he does when he’s been pestered by adults and doesn’t understand why. Like when he’s being wiped down after a messy snack, or when Louis’ trying to erase what they got up to before he’s due back at Briana’s.

Niall is normally especially sympathetic to this face. Tries to play for Freddie’s team when his parents are being irrationally fastidious. But at this moment Niall is midway through a cardiac event and can’t even spare Freddie a grimace.

He pulls at his own hair, and the tight pull at his scalp brings him back to the present.

The present, where Freddie just swallowed Louis’ engagement ring.

Niall is on his feet in record time for someone with such dodgy joints and scoops Freddie up despite his protests. His hands are shaking and his breath is ragged and he rushes into the bright, exposing light of the kitchen.

Louis is predictably standing in front of the microwave with a frown on his face.

When he sees Niall rush in he waves one hand. “He’s gotta be patient, we can’t have him getting demanding.” He doesn’t at all notice the blind panic on Niall’s face.

Not until Niall says, “He swallowed something.”

Louis looks up, brow deepening. “What?”

“In the lounge, I gave him—and he swallowed it. My thing. Louis, he swallowed metal.”

“What?”

Louis’ face instantly pales, which tells Niall that Louis doesn’t have a quick, crisis-averting fix like he’d hoped.

“What did you give him?”

“My ring,” Niall says without thinking.

“Your ring?” Louis’ eyes are so wide, he’s dropped the bottle and his hands are splayed like he’s trying to take hold of what’s happening. Niall thinks he can feel formula seeping between his toes.

“Why did you give him your ring?” Louis shrieks.

“It doesn’t matter!” Niall shouts back, his voice hysterical because there’s been no progress in the last six seconds. “He swallowed it! What do we do! He swallowed it!!”

Freddie is making upset little sounds at the fact that he’s being held against his will and everyone is shouting. Niall thinks out of everyone in the room, he may be the calmest of them all.

“Okay, okay, we need to go,” Louis says, instantly reaching for his son. Niall hands him over, watches Louis do a loop of the room before racing to the back door. He then races back to the loungeroom door, doubles back to grab his keys off the bench and disappears down the hall.

“Come on!” he screeches, jumpstarting Niall into action.

***

Niall and Louis sit in equally uncomfortably plastic chairs, facing the ‘staff only’ door across the emergency room. Louis is tapping his foot repeatedly against the linoleum floor and Niall’s fingers are so twisted together they’re starting to cramp. He starts chewing on his thumbnail for a change of pace but then remembers where he is and decides to save that until he’s found some hand sanitiser.

“What were you thinking, giving him a ring?”

Louis’ voice is low and he keeps staring straight ahead, so Niall assumes the question is rhetorical. After a few seconds Louis looks over, and Niall hopes his shame-faced demeanour will be enough of an answer.

It’s not.

“Huh? What was the bright idea behind that?”

“I was just—I didn’t—” Niall doesn’t know how much he wants to say, is still clinging to his little surprise despite where it got him.

“Surely any adult that’s ever been around a child knows not to give a swallowable object to a baby as a pastime.”

“I’m so sorry,” Niall mumbles, eyes set on his own lap.

Louis shifts back so he’s leaning his elbows atop his thighs. “Since when do you even wear rings, anyway. Any more of Harold’s gimmicks you plan on picking up?”

Without thinking, Niall snaps, “It’s not a fashion accessory.”

Louis quirks a judgmental eyebrow. “Then what the—”

A nurse chooses that moment to come back through the door and Louis’ half-formed sentence is abandoned. He rushes forward and takes Freddie back into his arms, one hand cradling his head to Louis’ shoulder.

“Is he—”

“He’s fine,” the nurse assures them, a look in her eyes that tells Niall this isn’t a unique night for her. “I imagine he’ll want a good night’s rest after all this excitement, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you,” Louis breathes, relieved. Niall’s shoulders sag.

And just when he thinks he’s going to be let off the hook, the nurse holds out a small, clear baggy. “The offending object.”

Louis takes it with a sideways glance at Niall.

“Does he need anything?” Louis asks.

“Just make sure he stays well hydrated, and maybe steer clear of the jewellery chest from now on.” She winks.

“Yeah, thank you,” Louis agrees, less humoured. The nurse waves them off to return to her duties and Niall turns to leave. He looks back when he notices Louis isn’t following him.

“Think we should get this one home, don’t you reckon?” he says warily.

Freddie is still cradled against Louis’ shoulder, but Louis is holding the plastic baggy up to the light, eyes narrowed.

“Lou?”

“This is nothing like Harold’s rings,” he says, looking at Niall.

“You’re the one who brought up Harry, I didn’t say anything,” Niall swallows, heart picking up.

“But it’s not the same,” Louis presses. “This is… formal.”

Niall delays looking at Louis for as long as possible, but eventually the silence weighs heavier than the truth and he glances up. His heart stutters when he sees that Louis’ eyes aren’t as hard as they were.

In that moment Niall is acutely aware of the fact that they’re standing in the middle of the emergency room, there are three strangers sitting two feet away, one with a bloody nose, and the back of his neck is cold front the air vent directly above him.

“Niall?” Louis prompts, and he doesn’t seem at all bothered by where they are.

“So uh,” Niall drops his eyes, scuffing his shoe against the floor. He looks back at Louis, and there’s something warm in his eyes. “So I had a question…”


End file.
